


The natural order of things

by loveinadoorway



Series: Want an axe to break the ice [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinadoorway/pseuds/loveinadoorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion to my little series. Hope you enjoy.</p><p>Comfort to the previous hurt, unashamed fluff and shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The natural order of things

 

“There is nothing I can do to eradicate my feelings for John.”

Oh God. So this was it, then. Well, Greg couldn’t say he was surprised. He’d always known this would happen. It was the natural order of things. Sherlock and John forever. And Greg Lestrade pining on the sidelines. He had known the second he had gotten the call, summoning him to 221b.

So why was the pain and rage and love boiling up inside of him threatening to choke him to death right now?

He mutely nodded, then ran his hand through his hair and turned to leave. Had to get out of there – and fast. Before he completely unravelled.

“However…”

He stopped, barely daring to breathe. There was a however?

Greg slowly turned around.

Sherlock stood there, in front of the mantel, long fingers toying with a box of matches, very much not looking at Lestrade.

“However,” Holmes repeated, voice getting more gravelly by the second, “I find myself likewise unable to deny that I have come to enjoy your company. I… errr…”

Sherlock faltered. He slowly and deliberately put the matchbox back on the mantel. Greg was nonplussed. Holmes was usually not at a loss for words. What on earth was going on? Was he being given the slip, or not? Jesus…

“Greg, I have no clue how to say this.” Holmes turned and looked at Greg for the first time. “Or rather, I know perfectly well how to say this, I just don’t know how to say it so you will understand and so your feelings won’t get hurt.”

Oh perfect, just perfect. Sherlock bloody Holmes was trying to dump him gently. Somehow, that made matters so much worse.

“Out with it, Sherlock. I’m a grown man, I can take it,” he growled, getting ready to make a quick exit.

“Well, you see, I have read that people usually find it hard to… be the second choice. Apparently, it makes them feel like a consolation prize, not quite good enough, fairly inadequate… you know. Especially probably in this case, since I, err, in all likelihood still do need some time to come to terms with… things. And errr… what with me being so bloody difficult even at the best of times and all.. So, that less-than-John thing is not what I meant at all to imply at all. You're, errr, you're a different thing, a new thing. With me. See?”

Sherlock looked at Greg, head tilted and an excruciatingly strained smile on his face.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, could you just spit it out, man?”

“Greg Lestrade, would you… would you have dinner with me? You know… a date.. a dating thing?”

For a minute or so, Greg just stared, mouth open and not ashamed of it. Then he took a deep breath.

“Let me get this straight. First, we fucked. Now we date? Now of all the arse over head things I’ve ever heard..”

The rest of that sentence would forever remain unsaid, because the consulting sociopath simply pulled the detective inspector close for a bruising kiss.

And this would be the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

THE END (oh okay, not quite. Click below for the final bit)


End file.
